


Four Times Leaparra Names Her Leopards, and One Time She Does Not

by Aeraki



Series: Warriors Kingdoms [5]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Pain, leopards, referenced character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeraki/pseuds/Aeraki
Summary: She pretends not to be terrified, even though her legs are shaking—whether in a frightened way or a thrilled way, she's not sure—and as a show of fake, fake confidence, Leaparra places her hand on her new leopard's spotted back. (Companion-fic to AkitsuneLune's Warrior Kingdoms.)
Series: Warriors Kingdoms [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617727
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Four Times Leaparra Names Her Leopards, and One Time She Does Not

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AkitsuneLune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkitsuneLune/gifts).



**Four Times Leaparra Names Her Leopards, and One Time She Does Not.**

* * *

**~Peaches~**

It's lunch time when he starts up his act again.

"Stop that already!"

Leaparra shoots Foerg a fierce glare when he steals a bite of her carp from her plate, a grin dancing on his lips. His green eyes are glimmering with a slight amusement, but her amber ones are most definitely not.

"Stop what?" he teases, picking out another piece of carp. "I'm not doing anything. See?" He holds out his palms to her, tanned but empty.

She stands abruptly, pushing her chair back from where she had been sitting, but Foerg either doesn't care or isn't feeling affected. She assumes the former is correct, but maybe both are.

"You know exactly what you're doing—"

"No, I don't—"

"Stop lying—"

"What's lying—"

"Foerg!" she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air, though at this point she knows she's arguing a futile point. "What is your problem? Can't you get your own food for once in your life?"

"Eh," shrugs Foerg with a small smile. "I could, but why would I, when you always get it for me?"

Leaparra stifles a string of furious words as she clenches her fists. Why is he so infuriating today? she wonders. We've never gotten along, but even so… "I have waited an hour or more for the court ladies to prepare this plate of carp, and I did not waste an hour of my life to feed anyone, much less someone as annoying as you!"

She's seething.

"They'll make another plate for you," says Foerg casually with his next bite. "They're absolutely in love with you. You know as well as the rest of the court knows it."

He's not exactly wrong, but that doesn't mean Leaparra wants to hear it. Especially not right now. So she ignores him. This lasts for what seems like an eternity—until she gets frustrated again.

It doesn't take her very long to realize that Foerg has no intention of stopping eating any time soon, and she now only has half a plate left to save.

Even so, she does want to save it.

There is one tactic left to try, and it sounds outrageously stupid, even to herself, but it's all she can think of in the moment. Leaparra takes a deep breath to steady herself in anticipation for her humiliation. In and out. Okay.

"Foerg," she says loudly, and now there's even a little bit of a growl in her statement as she draws herself up with as much bravery as she can muster. "If you keep eating my food, I'll summon a massive leopard to eat your legs, and then you won't be able to become a knight. King Heiles will throw you into the ocean!"

"So?" he mumbles. His silvery-grey hair falls into his face, and he brushes it away to reveal a growing smirk. "You summoned one leopard at your demonstration, and all it did was bring us some tiny little fish before it disappeared. Besides, you're eleven and a girl. Eleven-year-old girls can't summon full grown leopards. Everybody knows that, even you."

When he doesn't look at her and keeps eating, something just snaps inside of her, and Leaparra says again, "Foerg," but this time when he looks at her, he lets out a surprisingly girlish scream and jumps onto the lunch table, looking absolutely terrified.

She feels pretty proud of herself for scaring him, because he's nearly thirteen and easily twice her size, but then there's a loud sound—a snarl, and she finds herself flinching, because there, a little behind her, is an actual full-grown leopard, and she was definitely kidding about summoning one to eat Foerg's legs, but the leopard is actually definitely there.

Said leopard also happens to be a lot scarier than Leaparra is. She finds that Foerg being scared of a leopard is a little more believable than Foerg being scared of her.

Leaparra doesn't think that Foerg will eat her food again, not after this.

She pretends not to be terrified, even though her legs are shaking—whether in a frightened way or a thrilled way, she's not sure—and as a show of fake, fake confidence, Leaparra places her hand on her new leopard's spotted back.

It's warm and rough, and she tries to conceal the shiver of delight coursing through her fingertips.

Turns out eleven-year-old girls can summon full-grown leopards.

"What is going on here—" Lakia Schine comes from the kitchens, presumably brought by the sound of her son's scream. She cuts herself off at the sight of Foerg on the table, Leaparra shaking, and the leopard—now sitting calmly—in the middle of it all.

"I don't know what happened," Leaparra says, words spilling out of her mouth in a frantic rush to explain herself. She feels cornered all of a sudden, like she's been caught sneaking chocolates out of the kitchen before dinner. Her hands sweep around as she speaks but they're shaking too much for her to get any point across. "He was eating my food and I got mad about it and then—then the leopard showed up. I—I guess that was me." Her eyes sting at the confession, because this isn't training time, and will her mentor get upset at her for summoning when he's not around?

Foerg slowly slides off the table as she speaks, warily eying the spotted beast, and Lady Schine turns and says to him, "Go find Sir Feing and Leaparra's father Sir Frer and inform them of the situation, please. Ask them to join us in Leaparra's room." Her words are strangely calm.

Leaparra watches Foerg nod silently, and as soon as he is out of sight, she bursts into tears. "I don't know what to do," she whispers to Lady Schine. "I—I've never summoned a leopard before—Sir Feing and I hadn't gotten to summoning yet—we were working on other things, and—and—"

"Shh," says Lady Schine gently, helping her to her feet. "It'll be alright, you'll see, Leo. We'll get it all sorted out. Your father will be so, so proud of you, you know…"

By the time Sir Whet Feing and Mede Frer arrive, Leaparra is sitting beside her leopard on the floor beside her bunk, stroking his elegant back with only slightly steadier fingers. It's starting to feel a little familiar now, this leopard's presence.

Lakia Schine stands near the door, and her eyes watch her carefully, though she can't tell how the woman feels.

"This is almost unheard of," muses Sir Feing, studying Leaparra curiously, but it only lasts for a moment, and then he's smiling and praising her and calling her a natural and a prodigy. She doesn't know what half of that even means, but it sounds positive, and Leaparra soaks up all the attention with an ease she didn't know she had. The tension starts to leave the knot in her belly. He's not mad.

Her father whispers gently in her ear, "Your mother would be so proud of you, Leo," and she lets herself smile, just a little.

A few other knights get called over after her father's statement, and they talk in the hallway, and the reality of the situation crashes down on her again when they use big words that she doesn't understand. Leaparra manages to sneak out into the sunshine through a ladder and a window, where she gets a few moments of peace. She tries to calm and orient herself, because this is all new—and it's come all too soon, but then that peace is over, ripped away like an over-sapped bandage.

"What's his name?" pipes a curious little kid who has likely wandered too far, and Leaparra finds herself startled out of her thoughts. She steadies her still-wobbling hands before she says anything.

The question gives her pause. "Oh—uh—" Out of the corner of her eye, she sees an abandoned peach on the ground. It's golden and ripe, and it matches the leopard's coat perfectly. "—His name is—uh, Peaches."

She doesn't let the kid get too close to the leopard—Peaches—but he fawns and coos over him anyways.

Leaparra just lets him and repeats Peaches, Peaches, Peaches over and over in her head.

She tells her father the leopard's name that night, and it just sounds right, and the thought is certainly verified when she says gently, "Peaches," and he just looks up at her.

* * *

**~Snugglebug~**

Leaparra stares out onto the sea from the Rivier galleon. On her left side, her father Mede watches her. "You know," he says distantly, "your mother used to love the sea."

She doesn't look at him, but she can hear the wistfulness in the way he says "your mother."

"What about it did she like?" The question comes tentatively, because as much as Leaparra wants to be like Braeit Sakai, the sea has always been a source of fear for her. It's not a new question, by any means, but she loves to hear her father talk about her mother all the same, anyways.

"Well—" Mede turns to look at her. "Braeit loved the colours, and just—just the life in it." He sounds nostalgic. "I never saw it the way she did, but your mother … that was her favorite thing."

Leaparra says nothing, because she does not see what Braeit saw either. For her, the sea is stormy, and it is grey, and it doesn't have life; instead, it teases death. But she nods anyways, because Mede sounds so lost in memories, and she doesn't know what else to do.

When Mede is called for a patrol, she is left alone at the railing. The sea dances under the influence of the wind, but it is an angry dance, not the sort she's used to seeing.

"Maybe…" she whispers, "maybe if I'm a little more like Mother, then Father won't be so sad all the time."

His solemn gaze stays at the front of her head, even when she tries to shake it away.

That thought follows her the rest of the day. All she knows—all she really knows is that Braeit Sakai was well-liked and impressively accomplished, and she liked the sea and carp.

That is how Leaparra finds herself standing at the edge of the galleon with three other squires around her age. The sight of the ocean sends a churning feeling through her stomach, but she shoves it back down.

"Truth or dare?" asks Foerg.

Leaparra pauses for a moment, and says as bravely as she can muster, "D—dare."

One by one, the other two squires echo her response.

Foerg stands and points down into the churning waves. He holds an apple in his left hand. "I dare you guys to jump down there and bring back the apple I throw down there."

"What?" Leaparra recoils. Isn't that dangerous? she wants to shout. But she won't say a word, not in front of Foerg.

"You heard me." Foerg smirks. "You wouldn't back down from a dare, would you?"

"If it was that dangerous I would!" she shoots back, a flash of fear bolting through her chest as Leaparra remembers the cold tide. "Do you have any idea what my father would do to you if something happened to me?"

"—You know Braeit Sakai would've done it, right?"

That stops Leaparra, because from what she knows, Braeit Sakai would have. Foerg's got her trapped in a web, and she knows he knows it too.

"You're a son of a—" She says this in the worst way she can, but Foerg doesn't seem to care—again!—and she can't look at him again.

Before she can look too hard at the waves—or lose her courage, she swings herself over the rail, and when Foerg chucks the apple, she follows, not waiting for the other squires to go first.

While she falls, there is a brief sense of _why did you do that, you're going to die—Father's going to die, Foerg's going to die—I'm going to kill Foerg—_

And then she hits the water.

It's cold and wet and surprisingly hard and she hates the feel of it, and she just barely has enough time to suck in a breath before she's dragged under the menacing waves. She can see the apple, and it even bounces against her a few times, but she doesn't care about the stupid dare anymore, and all of a sudden she's so tired of fighting the water.

So, when the darkness comes, she finds she welcomes the freedom.

When she comes to consciousness again, the first words she hears are, "Is it bad?" The voice is Mede's, and she can hear faint rustling—of reed papers, maybe.

Baraim Baeri answers Mede calmly, with, "It's not great, but she will heal with time." Leaparra hears another rustling, and then a clear, concise diagnosis of, "Three broken ribs, a broken right arm, several bruised bones, a few scrapes and scratches, plus she probably went into shock at some point when she made impact. Oh—and it's highly likely she's got a concussion, too."

She opens her eyes with some degree of difficulty and shuts them again as light floods her senses. "Father?" she whispers, and everything hurts, and suddenly Mede is there at her side, blocking out the brightness.

"Leo," he says, and the relief is evident in his voice as he touches her shoulder. "Leo, what were you thinking?" Anger and a little bit of concern replaces his aforementioned relief. "Foerg told us what happened. You could have been killed when you jumped from the galleon."

"I know," whispers Leaparra, and she feels absolutely miserable—not just because of her injuries. For a moment, she feels like a little kid again, even though she's a teenager now. "It was stupid of me and I know I shouldn't have done it and I'm sorry but I had to."

"Mede, Leaparra?" Before her father says anything in response, there is a call from the other side of the room. Lady Baeri sounds hesitant. "What should I do with—ah—the leopard?"

"Leopard?" Leaparra manages. She doesn't remember summoning a leopard, but she knows it's possible. "Which…" For the second time, she opens her eyes, and her gaze falls upon the leopard Lady Baeri seems to be talking about. "I don't know who that is," she says faintly.

"Is your memory okay?" asks Mede, a little worried crease forming on his forehead. His words begin to run faster. "Lady Baeri, do you think she has amnesia?"

"No—I mean—she's new," Leaparra explains, a little alarmed. "I don't—I don't have amnesia, she's just never been summoned before, I guess. I mean—"

"Shh," says Lady Baeri, effectively cutting her off. "Sleep. We'll leave the leopard here for now, but if it causes you any trouble, tell me, all right?" The healer starts to usher Mede out the door. "You can see her later," Baraim says, when Leaparra's father begins to protest.

When Mede is gone, Lady Baeri looks back at Leaparra. "I'm sure you know how dangerous that was," she tells Leaparra. "And I don't have to tell you not to do that again, right?"

"Yeah," murmurs Leaparra, and with one last lingering moment, the healer exits the room. Her gaze drifts down to the leopard, who is as close to her as she can possibly be.

"Hey, you're quite the snuggle-bug, aren't you?" Awkwardly, she nudges the leopard with her left arm. The spotted feline makes a gentle rumbling noise deep in her throat. It sounds suspiciously like purring. "I'm going to take that as a yes, you know."

* * *

**~Honeybun~**

It's winter, and the water's started to freeze over. The ice is thin and easily broken, but Leaparra knows it thickens.

"This hasn't happened for seasons," murmurs her father. He's wringing his hands nervously. "And we've had so many new children too …"

Leaparra doesn't add her own concerns to his, but she's tense all the same. Earlier, she'd seen the ladies rationing out the food, and they'd been whispering, too.

Even Foerg, usually strong and filled-out, looked small compared to his summer build.

"Even the leopards haven't been finding much," she muses. "Peaches is my strongest tracker, but nothing's out right now to track."

Mede lets out a deep sigh. "I can't imagine how we're going to do this," he admits.

Leaparra doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have the chance to anyways, because he turns away and trudges back inside.

The cold stings her cheeks but suddenly she's struck with the resolve to find more food, and she heads deeper into the cold.

"Come on," says Leaparra, a hurried breath to herself. She exhales, and a plume of pale air escapes into the wind. She'd taken out a fishing boat on her own, and cast a little net down the side of it, but every time she'd checked, there had been nothing to show for it.

In a desperate attempt, Leaparra had even tried summoning her leopards, one by one, to catch stray fish. But it hadn't worked: Peaches came back shivering, and Snugglebug had only given her a mournful look before whining to be called back.

She throws the net back. "Blessed Starlaxi, help me," she groans. There's no response, but then again, she doesn't expect one anyways. Leaparra shuts her eyes, mutters a prayer again, and suddenly the boat's heavier.

"What…?" She casts her gaze around, and it falls upon a new leopard. This one's smaller than Peaches, but bigger than Snugglebug. "Who're you? Never mind, that's not important—oh!"

Under her gloved fingertips, the net she's been holding slackens.

Feeling a thrill of panic—or adrenaline—she pulls hard. The boat rocks. "Shoot." The net refuses to budge, the lines of it slipping fast.

But unlike most ventures with fishing boats, she's the only one who's on it. Except— "Will you help me?" Her voice is pinched from the strain, but the leopard comes closer anyways, and tugs at the strings.

The net finally budges, and with the help of the leopard, she pulls the net beside her. It's full of fish—more than she's seen since the middle of summer.

"How'd you do that?" Leaparra demands, but there's no answer—from the Starlaxi, or the leopard.

She can pull the boat up mostly by herself, and she's just tied the knot and hopped off when she hears a familiar voice.

"What—Leaparra, is that you?" It's Foerg she sees first, and she and her leopard heave the net of fish into the galleon.

"Yes," she says, and adds an unnecessary, "I have food."

"Want help carrying your catch?" There's a new respect in his eyes for her as he glances at it: once, twice over. "Everyone'll be delighted." She doesn't miss the fact that he says your catch.

The leopard releases his grip. It's a clear tip. "Yeah, okay," she accepts.

Together they haul the net to the kitchens, and she doesn't miss the interested looks by the knights and squires they pass.

The minute they drop it, the ladies are all over them, and Leaparra turns to leave. There's a hand on her shoulder, and Foerg's there.

"Hey—I just wanted to say—uh, good job." He looks pained, sucking up his pride, but she decides not to poke fun at him.

"Thanks. I guess," she answers. He darts away, sheepish.

She turns to leave again, but behind her there's one of the court ladies, holding out a plate with a single honeybun on it.

"For you, Leaparra," says one of the ladies. "The King requested it, as thanks for your assistance hunting."

She accepts it with a smile and a thank you, settles down at a table to eat it. Her leopard follows quickly, his big eyes staring.

Leaparra glances at him. "You can't have any."

In one fluid motion, the leopard pokes his nose over the table and steals the honeybun off her plate. She doesn't particularly appreciate his response.

"What are you doing? That's mine!" Her exclamation is received with a cool look.

Leaparra swears that the leopard is grinning at her, as he snarfs down the remnants of her glazed treat.

"Hey," she scolds. "That's not polite, and you know it. Also, I was eating that, in case you didn't notice."

This time, she's definitely sure he's grinning.

"You honeybun thief. You— _Honeybun._ "

* * *

**~Sweetheart~**

"What do I do?" Leaparra stares down at her feet, twisting her hands together.

Across the pavilion, she can see Reid Taele. His back is to her, but she recognizes his tall, agile form and sloping shoulders far, far too easily.

Peaches looks up at her, his amber gaze half-slitted.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asks, half-joking and half-not.

Peaches promptly yawns and lies down on his side.

"You're such a help." She glances down at him, and back to Reid, and even though she can't see his face, she blushes when she hears his laugh. "All right. Anyone else want to help me out? Snugglebug? Honeybun?" She ponders a moment. "Actually, that's a bad idea. Snugglebug's too sweet for this, and Honeybun is way too aggressive." Leaparra pretends to glare at Peaches. "And you're not helping, are you."

Then she freezes, because Reid is looking at her, with his clear blue eyes, and he's saying something but she can't hear him.

Then, there's a gust of wind in front of her face, and it begins to play Reid's voice. "Hey, want to join me over here, or would you rather just stay over in the corner?"

Leaparra chokes. "Can't one of you just go and take him a message?"

There's no response, and finally, she just resolves to pick one at random. There is a surge of life-force, but when Leaparra opens her eyes, neither Snugglebug nor Honeybun is in front of her.

"You're new," she says, slightly shocked. "I mean, Sir Feing thought I'd get another one soon, but—"

This new leopard is a darker golden shade, more like Leaparra's own hair.

"Well, will you help me give Reid a message?" she asks lowly. The leopard tilts her head and grasps Leaparra's sleeve gently in her mouth.

"What—am I supposed to follow you?" The leopard takes a few steps forward, and reluctantly, Leaparra follows, though butterflies rise in her stomach when she sees that the leopard is leading her towards Reid.

"Hey. It's Leaparra, right?" And suddenly, Leaparra's fairly sure she's dead, because Reid is there and he's actually talking to her.

"Yeah—yeah."

"Can I touch your leopard?" He seems not to notice her awkwardness, and when she nods, he rests his hand on the new leopard's back. "Oh—it's softer than I thought it'd be."

Leaparra watches, still paralyzed, as the leopard nuzzles Reid's hand. "Yeah," she says. "She's a sweetheart, all right, through and through."

* * *

**~Dappleopard~**

"Tell me the story again, Leo!" Wheit says. He moves his hands around, pantomiming. "The one with the whooshing waves and the loud wind and the leopard.

Leaparra laughs. It's his favorite story, and even though he's surely heard it a million times, he never seems to tire of it.

"This happened during the big flood six years ago," she tells him. "It happened while I was twenty, and you were just a newborn."

"How little was I?" Wheit gasps. He holds his fingers together in a circle. "Was I this little?"

She smiles. "No, you were a little bigger than that." She repositions his fingers so that they are roughly measuring the size of a newborn child.

"I was little," he whispers, staring at his own hands. Then, quickly, he looks back up at her. "What happened then?"

"Nobody knew where you came from," she says, "and we were all evacuating when we saw you. You were in a reed basket, floating in the water. You were crying, but none of us could see anyone coming after you."

"An'?" He's enraptured now, bouncing. "Then what?"

"I went after you," she continues. "You were the only one left in the camp, and Snugglebug helped me get to you."

"But you and Snugglebug couldn't carry me."

Leaparra pauses. "No, we couldn't. The water was very strong." She'd been paralyzed in fear of the water, too, but that was never part of the story. "Do you remember what happened next?"

Wheit looks like he's about to burst. "My favorite part!" he says happily. "We got the new leopard! The pretty one!"

Beside her, Peaches looks a little offended, but she consoles him with gentle hand on his head.

"Right, I summoned the fifth leopard. She was just a cub then, but she helped us carry you back to dry land."

"Then you got me." Wheit says this very solemnly.

"You're right, I did." Leaparra presses a kiss to the top of his pale hair. Giggling, her son squirms away.

"Does sh' have a name?" asks Wheit, and he tilts his head. A lock of grey-and-white hair falls in front of his amber eyes, and she tucks it behind his ear fondly.

"Not yet."

"Why not?" demanded the six-year-old. "Everything's gotta have a name, don't they?"

"Yes," Leaparra agrees, "but I haven't quite found the right one yet."

Her adopted son studies the white leopard carefully. "She's a dappl' 'eopard!" gasps Wheit suddenly, his eyes are as round as saucers. "Leo, she's a dappleopard!"

"Yes," Leaparra says, gazing at the leopard, "yes, I think she looks like a Dappleopard to me."

Wheit beams and grins at her response, and Leaparra lets the corners of her own mouth quirk up. He throws his arms around the white leopard and whispers, as if it's a sacred thing, "Dappleopard, you have a name now!"

She writes all of this slowly, pen trailing across the page.

A squire stands nervously next to her, and she marks the document with her seal.

"For my wife," she says simply. "Deliver this, if you will." He nods, shooting the leopards a nervous glance, and she adds, "Don't let anybody else touch it. If anyone confronts me about this, Honeybun will eat your legs for breakfast, your arms for lunch, and the rest of you for dinner."

The squire looks like he's about to faint, so she just smiles. "Yes, of course, right away—"

Honeybun snaps lightly at his heels, and the scribe screams a little, a high pitched girly kind of sound.

"Good boy," Leaparra tells him.

Her leopards all look a little bit smug.


End file.
